Ayda
Pain. That’s all I feel. Pain. It’s radiating throughout my entire body. I can hear the screams of someone in pain, but it sounds far away as the voices and sounds of those around me urgently tell me to push.
I am pushing, but it’s been so long. I’m exhausted and the smell of my blood has only strengthened over time.
“Push Ayda!” my mate’s face comes into my field of vision. It’s blurry, but I want to push, I want this pain to be over. I want to hear my son take his first breath, cry out so I know he's alive and well.
“Alpha, we’re losing him,” I hear.
“Ayda, push!” he growls. I’m trying, I really am trying. I take a deep breath and I push again as pain rips through my body. Tears steam down my face as I scream, fighting against the pain that is keeping me from my child, my pup.
“That’s it, Luna. He’s coming, keep pushing,” someone says, the doctor, I think.
The moment I feel his body finally slide between my legs, I sigh in relief. My body is still aching and my vision is blurred as I watch them rush my son to a table beside me.
“Luna, Luna, stay with me,” I nurse says. I can hardly hear her over the sounds of the voices, my mate’s the loudest as he shouts that they need to save our son.
“What’s happening?” I try to ask, but no one is listening to me. I’m so tired, I can barely keep my eyes open and it isn't long before I lose the battle and fall into unconsciousness.
When I wake, my mate is sitting beside me, glaring at me.
“Masuzyo, where is he? Where is our son?” I ask.
He sneers at me. “He died while you slept. What sort of a woman, a Luna, sleeps while her son dies beside her?”
I jolt awake, panting as the dream begins to fade. I put my head in my hands and begin to sob. Two years later and I still wake up with my mate’s hateful eyes on me, accusing me of sleeping while our son died.
I found out later that Masuzyo killed the doctor who hadn’t been able to revive our son. He had dismissed the staff and waited for me to wake up. I have no idea how long I was out, but when I woke, my entire body still ached from the hours of labor I had endured. I realized that he had not allowed anyone to clean me and I was still covered in the now-dried blood and fluids of my son’s delivery.
I scrub my face with my hands willing the memories to go, but for some reason, it’s like my mind won’t stop until all the memories come out.
I remember the hateful, crazy way Masuzyo looked at me. How he told me that I wasn’t worthy of being his Luna or anyone’s Luna. He had picked me up, carrying me. I thought he was taking me to the packhouse, to our room, but he had carried through our pack lands, past or borders, to a place where our patrols wouldn’t find me.
“Masuzyo, what are you doing?” I had asked, too weak to put up a fight.
He stood up and looked down at me with hate burning in his eyes. “I, Alpha Masuzyo Malai, reject you, Luna Ayda Sandu, as my mate and my Luna. You are no longer part of our pack, and you are no longer my mate. Accept it,” he growled.
I still remember his hot breath on my face as I screamed in agony, the pain of his rejection ripping through me. He grabbed my hair, pulling my face up to his. “Accept it, or die.”
“I, Luna Ayda Sandu, accept your rejection,” I said. I had seen him flinch, watched as he stood and stumbled away, his hand to his heart, while I lay dying on the damp earth, covered with leaves and moss.
As I look around the cave that has been my home for nearly two years, I remember that it was only because of those sweet nurses that I even survived. The nurses that had been in the delivery room, who knew that I nearly died giving birth, had found me. They had given me a pack of food and water, along with antibiotics and they had cleaned me so that no other scavenging animals would find me and kill me while I tried to recover.
They had wanted to help me find a safe place, but I had refused.
“Get back, before you're missed. I don’t want you punished for helping me,” I told them.
“Luna, please, you’re not well,” one nurse had said.
“I’m not your Luna any longer. He rejected me,” I say and both had wept before hugging me and finally leaving to get back to the pack.
I stand, looking around my little space, willing the ghosts of my past to leave me be. It took me a long time to find this place. Thankfully, the nurses had given me some food and water, and the antibiotics I didn’t think I would need, I had needed not two days later. I had woken from a restless sleep, freezing cold, which is unheard of for werewolves.
It took my wolf, Asena, nearly a year by my estimation to resurface. Between trying to save me, our son, and then the rejection, I was surprised when she returned to me one day. I thought I had lost her forever, but I was glad to have her back. My life as a rogue became much easier once she returned. Not only was I no longer alone, but she could hunt, so I didn’t have to survive on plants and berries.
When she first returned, we cried together, the wounds of our losses fresh as we suffered them together once again. Now, I’m not sure if my dreams, or rather my nightmares, are from her, or from me.
I look around my small little cave. It probably seems strange, but I have decorated it as best I can. After Asena returned to me, and we began hunting, I collected the furs of the animals she killed. The rabbits, in particular have multi-colored coats that I’ve attached to my walls giving some color and warmth to my little space.
I’ve used larger coats to cover myself, although most of the time, I don’t bother to cover up. It’s rare that I see or hear anyone around here. It’s like I’m alone in the world.
‘You’re not alone anymore, Ayda. But, come on, I’m hungry. Let’s go get some food,' Asena says.
‘Fine, but I want to stop and look at those flowers we saw yesterday. I think I can find a way to put them in water. It will make our place look more colorful.’
She chuckles as we shift and begin running. ‘You and your flowers.’
‘You like them, too,’ I say as she lifts her nose in the air.
I had a year to be reminded of what life was like without a wolf, so now, when Asena runs, I close my eyes, letting her take over completely and I just enjoy the feel of her strong body and heightened senses.
It’s early spring and I can smell the flowers starting to bloom, smell the grass as it starts to grow again, the leaves that have begun to sprout on the trees in the forest, maple, pine, oak. They all smell amazing with Asena’s nose.
Suddenly, Asena slows, turning her head to try and catch the sounds.
‘What is it, Asena?”
‘Fighting.’
‘Humans?’
“Wolves. Lots of them.’
‘How far away?’
‘A couple of miles.’
I’m about to tell her to turn around and run, when a blood-curdling scream comes from our right, immediately followed by the snapping and snarling of wolves.
‘Asena!’ I yell, but she’s already moving.
The scream had come from a pup, probably too young to shift. If this is a pack war…
Asena races over the mountainous terrain where we live, rushing to the sounds of a yelping pup and snarling wolves. When she gets to an overhang, I can see that below us there is a pup, probably around nine years old, surrounded by five adult wolves who look like they have every intention of killing him.
Without a thought to my own safety, I leap. My only thought is to protect this pup.
